Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MIKO

T he bullet rushed past my head with scant inches to spare. It hit a tree, splintering the bark with a bang.

"Fuck!" Lance yelled, reloading the rifle.

I seized the opportunity to go for him, putting Basil down before springing forward. Lance roared, abandoning his reload and taking a swing at me with the rifle instead.

Leaping back, I dropped into a sweeping kick, knocking his legs out from under him. He landed on his arse, gun flying from his hands.

"You stupid cunt!" he screamed.

Full of fury, I leaped on top of him with a right hook to his face. Bone crunched, teeth breaking. He grabbed my arms, pushing me back with his almost equal strength—enough to get me off him.

Lance sprang to his feet, his hair hanging around his face in greasy tresses. His clothes were filthy. Blood poured from his nose and mouth and he spat shards of teeth, pain contorting his face

"You'll pay for that, Miko."

We charged at the same time. I ducked a left hook, landing my fist in his gut. He oofed but didn't go down. Instead, he kicked me in the shin, forcing me onto one knee. He backflipped, delivering a brutal kick to my chest as I tried getting up, hunching slightly at the wrong moment.

At least he didn't get me in the mouth. Small mercies, I suppose.

I hit the dirt, rolled, and sprang back to my feet. Rampaging adrenaline kept the pain at bay, pushing me harder to kick his arse.

God, I still couldn't believe I'd slept with this creep.

He backflipped again, dodging my barreling charge, laughed in his irritating way, then scrambled up a tree.

Squatting on a thick branch, he flipped me his middle finger, his blood now staining most of his neck.

Where was that rifle? I felt like shooting a prick off his perch.

"Why are you alive?" he questioned, disappointment in his tone. "You must have a hundred angels on your back."

"Fuck you," I retaliated.

He spat bloodied saliva at me. "Come on, Miko. Spill those beans. How did you get away so easily?" His eyes darted briefly to Daria. "Ah. You had help. I knew you couldn't do it alone." He dabbed at his nose, patting the side of his mouth. "You really hurt me."

"Good."

Lance smirked, his blue eyes sparkling with some deadly, unknown secret.

Great.

"Oh, Miko. Look at you being all brave and gallant. Well, maybe not gallant. That's giving you too much credit. Desperate would be more appropriate." He spat more blood in my direction, showing off fresh gaps in his teeth. "Do you miss your fae mate?" The prick spoke in a whiny tone. "Have you cried? Have you rocked in some corner, pining for the redhead, cursing my name, cursing Dawn, droning on about how life is cruel and unfair to bring you together just to tear you apart?" He groaned and gagged. "Sickening. But then you've always made me sick. One of the biggest regrets of my life is taking you to bed. You're nothing but lower-class trash who never deserved that crown on his head. Definitely unworthy of my touch."

As much as I didn't want his words to cut deep, they did. Because I shouldn't be alive, let alone an alpha. I was supposed to be dead at three years old, but I got a second chance at the expense of the world.

Fuck. Guilt bore down on me. I actually staggered slightly under its intensity. Dark thoughts trundled into my mind like rain clouds, releasing a bitter deluge. Every icy droplet came with a bite, a reminder of what I'd gained and what I'd lost. The deaths of my family, the undoing of this world, the threat against Faery. I tried clinging to the brightness of Orion, but my grip was slick.

I didn't deserve to live. I didn't deserve to have that special honey to replicate me.

No. Blood for blood it had to be. This blood pumping in my veins right now, not some copied version.

I have to go now. I have to forget about Ori. I have to ? —

Beams of sunlight broke through the dense darkness of my inner world. Shafts of light on my face, reaching my heart, carrying the warmth of cherries and love.

Orion…

I would never give him up.

Damn it. I shut my bullshit down. Fuck being a martyr, fuck carrying guilt for a decision I didn't make. Why should I let Lance's words get to me like this, to make me question my hope? Orion counted on Wendy, and counted on me to make things work, to be in the future with him.

That's the thing about guilt. It works in strange ways, sets landmines wherever you go. And it sent its roots to the deepest parts of my core. Always there, never letting go, never allowing me to be truly free.

But fuck those rain clouds. I wanted to live. I would deal with the guilt later, as long as I did it in the arms of my mate.

There. Deflectors up. Lance's bullshit sent spinning off into space.

I smiled up at him, offering my best menacing grin. "Come down. Come play. Let's finish this. Don't be a coward."

"Finish it?" he questioned irritably.

I folded my arms. "Yeah. Let's tango."

Lance hit a lot of points on the personality spectrum. One of his biggest traits, for better or worse, was his ability to surprise. Like his face changing, becoming feline, ears sticking up with tufty tips, his body quickly transforming into a silver-furred lynx.

Yeah. Surprise.

"Haven't seen you in a while," I mumbled up at the big cat. Bigger than a regular lynx, his massive paws hid claws deadly enough to make short work of anybody.

He might be a prick, but he was a dangerous one.

Right. So, we were going down this route, eh?

He hissed at me, his long whiskers twitching. A pair of blue eyes caught the fading moonlight, driving my heartrate up.

I shifted, clothes tearing open, my human body giving way to the big wolf of black fur. I shook, lifting my head to bay at the moon—a call I hoped my pack would also hear. Not to save me, but to find me later.

Lance dove from the branch, claws out. I failed to move in time and he landed on my back, crushing me to the ground. Tore into me with claws and teeth and wild fury.

Damn. That hurt.

Getting myself together, I thrashed and forced him off me. He jumped back twice, hissing.

I growled, lowering my head. Blood trickled down my sides from fresh wounds, pouring extra fuel into my inferno.

Lance lowered himself too, wiggling his backside. I attuned myself to the moment, aware of every sound, every smell, every twitch from the alpha werelynx. Waiting. Preparing. Anticipating him to make the first move. I knew him better than he believed, his arrogance a weapon to be used against him.

The dickhead lacked patience, easily riled.

He made the first move, bounding at me, leaping through the air. Darting to the side, I maneuvered out of his trajectory, spinning as he landed and charged at him with full force. He yowled and I crashed into him, knocking him onto his back.

I closed my jaws around his right flank, tearing off a chunk of flesh, crushing him under me.

He clawed at my body, trying to gouge my eyes out. Spitting, hissing, and yowling as he struggled. Every time he seemed to make gains in freeing himself, I stopped him at the last moment, getting the better of him.

But I knew better than to get cocky. Gaining the upper hand didn't guarantee anything. Only when the fight was truly over could you claim victory. Even then, there was no need to be a dickhead about it.

Lance sliced into my right flank, shaking me off balance. He managed to get in a swipe at my snout before breaking free of me and darting back up the tree.

He shifted to his human form, panting as he clutched his chest. There were cuts all over his body, blood trickling across muscle.

"Enough," he wheezed.

I shifted back, carrying stinging injuries of my own. "It'll never be enough."

He jumped, landing straight on me and slammed me into the ground. He grabbed me by the head, twisting as if to break my neck.

You're doing it wrong…

"Die!" he screamed in my face, sitting on my stomach.

I punched him on the side the head then shoved him off me. I grabbed his left arm, snapping it. Of course, he hurled every insult under the sun at me while he dragged himself across the mud.

He got back on his feet, rushing me with his broken arm dangling beside him. Took a swing at me with his right fist, missed, then shifted back to lynx.

I shifted too.

In our respective animal forms, we were stronger and quicker, but burned through energy at an accelerated rate. All this fighting would deplete our resources in no time.

So fucking be it.

Lance held up his front left leg, the limb twisted painfully. He hobbled at me, still packing some serious speed. I met him head on with a super wolf charge, knocking him down like a skittle.

He kicked his back legs, catching me on the left flank, his claws snagging in my flesh.

Roaring through the pain, I thrashed, slightly panicked. Again, I messed up, giving him the upper hand. He managed to get himself on my back, my bones creaking under his weight.

Prick.

He bit down on the back of my neck, pulling at the skin, every available claw treating me like a pincushion. The more I tried shaking him off, the harder his grip became.

With no other choice, I shifted back to human form.

Success. He lost his grip and I put some distance between us, skin on fire from the scratching shithead.

I cracked my knuckles, rolled my shoulders, the pair us locked in a staring contest.

God, he didn't die easily.

Neither did I.

His patience breaking, Lance attacked again. This time I didn't move as he flung himself at me. Instead, I readied my fist and cracked him in the skull just before he made contact with me. The timing was slightly off, his claws slicing my right thigh. I winced, sucking air between my teeth as I went after him. He stumbled and hit the ground, shifting, landing on his broken arm.

He screamed, the horde responding with hisses nearby.

Shit. We had to get out of here.

But I fell on him, no control over my hunger for vengeance. I lost myself to it, pummeling my fists into his face over and over again, forgetting to breathe, forgetting everything beyond my rage.

Lance Forest poisoned my life in many ways, always a thorn in my side. Always threatened the people I cared about.

Not anymore.

I kept beating him, fucking up his face, his blood spraying, his body going limp. And it wasn't enough. Like me, he had built-in shifter strength, a degree of self-healing that would eventually put him back on his feet if I didn't finish the job properly.

Where he failed to break my neck, I succeeded. He went limp, blood pooling under his ruined head.

I sat on his chest, catching my breath, staring down at the mess. I felt nothing, not even relief. Only emptiness—the kind that sidestepped numbness. Lance was dead and that was it. No fireworks, no ceremony, nothing but the metallic stench of his blood and the violent sounds of the horde closing in on us.

Getting to my feet, in need of ointment and a hot bath, I finally came back to myself.

Daria's was on her knees beside Joe's ashes, head bowed.

Shit.

Basil stared at me, mouth hanging open.

"We have to move," I wheezed, standing there stark bollock naked and sore as hell. "The horde…"

"Joseph…" Daria whispered. "My dear friend. Too many friends lost."

"Daria, we have to?—"

Her head snapped up. "Move. Yes. We have to move. Yes. I'm sorry… I'm sorry I didn't fight with you." She was back on her feet.

"Not your fight," I answered. "I'm sorry about Joe."

"Grieving can wait. Come, fae. I will carry you."

Basil didn't argue, climbing onto Daria's back. Silently, she followed me along the dirt path, the two of us breaking into a jog. I worked through the pain, picking up my pace.

Lance is dead, I told myself, still feeling absolutely nothing.

Lance. Is. Dead.

Maybe one day I would celebrate. Maybe one day it would feel less anti-climactic. He didn't suffer enough. He didn't scream enough. I didn't hurt him enough. God, he deserved so much worse than what he got.

"Interesting," the voice of Dawn came from behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to see the possessed biter again.

What I saw jolted me to a stop, got my body turning, my hackles rising.

Lance was back on his feet, his swollen eyes tainted pink, that damn smoke coiling around his body like a pink python.

Behind him, hundreds of Dawn-infested eyes lit up the night.

"I see nothing but the failures of life on this planet," Dawn said, its voice twinned with Lance's. Distorted, not as clear, but still creepy. "Where is the unity? Why do you not fight together? Too late now. You killed him, his body is mine. But your world is strange. Your world is losing."

Enough of this shit. I couldn't take anymore of Lance's reanimated corpse or the proximity of the biters. Let Dawn say whatever the fuck it wanted. We were out of here.

I used the last of my energy to shift and get some good distance quickly, tearing off into the night with the vamp. I'd pay the physical price later.

The horde made its horrific noises while Dawn cackled. Those sounds echoed around us, even after gaining decent distance on the fuckers.

After about five miles, my body finally gave up. I shifted to human in the middle of a country road close to a windmill, rolling onto my back.

"What is it?" Daria asked, taking my hand. "Are you spent?"

"Yeah…"

"How long do you need?"

"Give me… Fuck. Maybe ten minutes. Give me ten minutes."

"I can heal…" Basil struggled to say. "I can heal you."

He was in no state to be healing anyone.

"It's alright," I replied. "I'll be fine."

"We can shelter in the windmill," Daria suggested. "I will check it first." She carried Basil away.

"Ori?" I tried reaching out to him, my pain and exhaustion too much of a blocker.

Damn. I just wanted to hear his voice.

Daria returned. I sensed her bristle, saw her pupils dilate.

Ah, shit. What now?

"Wolves," she whispered. "Your wolves." Her lips curled into a smile. "Can‘t you smell them?"

As soon as she said it, I picked up their familiar scents, the remainder of my fury softening. "James? Paige?"

I saw them coming down the road in wolf forms. James, my beta and pack engineer was brown-furred. Paige, the pack's medic, was a soft blonde.

What a sight for sore eyes, some of my tension easing.

My people. They were really here.

Both of them shifted to human at the same time, jogging the last few feet.

Three naked werewolves, a vampire, and a fae all gathered on a road—there had to be a joke in there somewhere.

"Oh my God," Paige said in her Irish lilt, the back of her hand on my forehead

"What happened?" James asked, his ninety-percent perky voice cracking. "Look at the state of you. Come on. We've got a safe space where Paige can treat your wounds."

Paige nodded, her pale blue eyes shining.

"Then we'll talk," James added, his nostrils flaring in response to the distant sounds of the horde.

I passed out five minutes into the journey to this safe place, falling into a dream about Orion.

Nothing steamy, nothing more than holding him on my bed, back at my Haven flat.

And it meant the world.

No. The universe.